Most days it was too cold to walk. Breathed in icy air which shot up my brain and quickly devolved into a headache nursed unsuccessfully with some Guinness. Stopped by a bookstore and picked up this, this, and this, and a clothing store to ogle ridiculously expensive and fun punk rock outfits.

St. Mark's Bookshop. Browsing time devoted to indie stuff, lit mags and journals, Ugly Duckling Presse books.


Trash & Vaudeville. Punk rock extravaganza.

The park was lovely despite the weather. The outdoor market had stall after stall of furry caps with animal faces and ear flaps. Felt stupid lonely passing a man playing this on his cello in the subway. Ate loads-of-meat dinners accompanied by uncharacteristically girly drinks, sangria and mojitos.

A walk in the park.


No luck spotting this one.


Fun toys for dorky friends.

Stayed warm in coffee shops. Watched a pregnant woman with a supply of letter writing paraphernalia on her little table plod through a stack of notecards–write, seal, stamp, write, seal, stamp, etc–while eating a slice of cake. Watched a beautiful couple argue discreetly while their two hyperactive children ran around the coffee shop. Watched person after person drinking coffee alone while tinkering with their preferred gadget. Wrote postcards. Read some.

Kindle-crazy Christmas.


Postcard with annotations.